Worst Memories
by Aurora Wolfe
Summary: Draco had a secret, one he didn't want anyone to find out. So what will he do when he is forced to show the class his worst memory, transforming him from feared and revered to something he hated...pitied  Rated T for abuse, possibly a Dramione fic!
1. Chapter 1

A/N:This is my first harry potter fanfic, I hope you like it!

Chapter 1

I sit, casually drumming my long, white fingers on the table; my characteristic sneer set firmly in place. Where the hell is Moody? As if is having double DADA with that paranoid, poor excuse for a teacher wasn't bad enough he has to show up late every lesson.

'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' a voice roars, we all jump a foot out of are chairs; a few students, mostly bally Griffindors, whip out their wands. Moody pauses briefly to give these students a smile, or his version of a smile: a grimace. I growl quietly and by this time Moody has made his way to the front of the classroom and is clunking about on his wooden leg, setting something that looked like a giant screen up.

'Huh?' Crabbe grunts thickly. I choose not to answer on account of the fact that I have no idea what he is doing but am not thick enough to draw attention to that fact.

'Right,' He turns his grizzled face towards us. 'We have finished our work on the Imperious Curse,'

Good I think savagely, I was getting annoyed with saint bloody Potter being the only one who could throw it off, on top of being the Hogwarts champion. I can't believe he hoodwinked the goblet, the bloody cheat. My father was so angry…I decide I don't want to go along that train of thought and turn my attention back to Professor Moody.

' We are now stating work on the Memorum Dura curse. This curse forces the victim to relive their worst memory and is popular among dark wizards as a form of torture. I have rigged this screen so we will be able to watch the victim's memory as well. You will each have a turn.'

Collective murmuring breaks out before Moody adds 'I will then teach you how to block this curse.'

Huh? He is going to perform this curse on us before telling us how to block it, what is that all about? Shouldn't he tell us how to block it then perform it on us to see who could throw it off? I don't have time to ponder this any longer, or give any thought as to what my worst memory would be because Moody is now calling people up to the front. The Slytherin section of the class watch with poorly disguised eagerness whereas the Gryffindor half are murmuring words of encouragement as Parvati steps forwards.

'Relashio Memorum Dura' Moody intones and with a short gasp of surprise Patil sinks slowly towards the ground, her body frozen but her eyes flickering manically. I frown slightly at the sick grin on Moody's face before I turn my attention quickly to the screen with the rest of the class.

Flashing different colours for a minute, the screen whirs ominously before a picture forms. It shows the young Patil twins playing exploding snap in a warm-coloured sitting room. The scene is peaceful and homely when suddenly a scream pierces the air. Looking up in surprise, the twins watch their mother rush in, tears streaming down her face. 'Oh girls, it's…it's Alfie. He's-' she gulps 'he's died.' The twins questioning gazes instantly turn to matching grimaces of horror before they both run out of the room. The scene switches to show a kitchen, in which a stone cold cocker spaniel lies curled up in a basket looking like he is sleeping, the Patils crouched around him crying silent tears and stroking his fur. The picture distorts then vanishes leaving only a shocked silence in its path.

After a minute Patil comes to with a shuddering gasp, and though I am slightly shocked I maintain my cold stone guise. Brown immediately steps forward to comfort her crying friend. The mutterings of the class cease with a short bark from Moody but I am caught up in an inner turmoil. What was my worst memory? Was it something I would want the rest of the class to see? No. I snort, especially not the fucking Golden Trio. Pushing those thoughts aside, I snap out of my reverie as the next member of class is called up.

The pattern is repeated many times: a trembling student, an awful memory, much comforting from friends. Most of the students' worst memories were petty - deaths of pets or grandparents, even arguments that had gotten out of control with siblings. Nothing too horrifying, though I am disturbed at the sadistic look lining Moody's ravenged face. Old Potty's memory got everyone cooing and fawning over him, the bloody bastard. It showed him, the Weasel and that fool Lockhart going down into the chamber of secrets and his desperate battle with the humongous basilisk, it poisoning him, his healing and the defeat of the memory of the young Dark Lord. I have to say I am slightly impressed, that thing was huge and he was only a twelve-year-old boy armed with a sword. Though if muggle-loving fool's bird hadn't of pecked the eyes out of the snake, potter would have been dead meat. The weasel's memory is similar, him learning that it was his sister that had been taken down to the chamber and the events following.

All too soon it is my turn, 'Mr Malfoy!' growls Moody. Blaise turns and gives me an encouraging slap on the back, I wince as he catches a concealed bruise and see Pansy's eyes narrow slightly. Ignoring them both, I slowly drag my sore and protesting limbs to the front of the class. As the movement tweaks my injuries I have a sudden insight as to what is going to show up on that screen. My fathers face, towering over me, a wand, whip or fist clenched. A spasm of fear shoots down my spine as I turn to lock gazes with Moody. His grey eyes narrow and I hear the spell.

'Relashio Memorum Dura!'

My world melts and turns black.

Thank you very much for reading my work. Please review and tell my what you think, this is my first fic so some tips on how to make it better would be appreciated. I don't have a beta so sorry if there are any mistakes, I did try and check it through though…

Rori xxx


	2. Chapter 2

N/A:Next Chapter up, this shows some abuse so don't read if you don't like.

Chapter 2

_The room is huge. Blinding white marble immersed among delicate ornaments, stately paintings and vaulted ceilings. Lucius stands in the centre of the room. Tall. Hard. Unfeeling. Dressed in sweeping black robes embossed with the Malfoy crest, his stormy eyes ablaze._

'_Draco' he says. He doesn't shout or yell, just states it calmly. The great wooden doors at the head of the room swing open and Lucius watches his only son walk in. _

'_Yes Father?' Draco replies coldly, head bowed and in a voice that betrays no emotion. Gone is the characteristic sneer and cocky drawl. _

'_Look at me.' Draco raises his head slowly, and Lucius takes in the hollow cheekbones and deep shadows under his stormy eyes. His eyes. The only part of his perfect façade that is not blank or unfeeling. Eyes that betray pain, hatred and was that…fear. Yes, the Slytherin ice prince…scared. Lucius can't help but smirk at the fact that he has broken his son. Broken him like a man breaks a wild stallion at the stockyard._

'_I think you know why you are here…'_

_Lucius frowns slightly at his son's lack of response and his high-heeled boots ring out on the polished marble floor as he makes his way towards his son. Draco doesn't move or flinch but Lucius can detect a slight stiffening of the young shoulders._

'_Answer me when I speak to you,' Lucius hisses, backhanding Draco around the face as hard as he can. Draco's jaw jerks to the side before he snaps it back towards his father, an angry red weal appearing. Lucius smirks._

'_Remove your shirt.'_

_Slowly and without breaking eye contact with his father Draco takes off his plain blue shirt. With his broad shoulders and chest Draco was hardly scrawny. Constant Quidditch practise had ensured large muscles and a sculpted physique, the pale planes of his torso complementing the flawless abs. His skin however was far from flawless, mottled with bruises, thick scars criss-crossing the white skin of his back and slashing through his chest._

'_Turn around.' Lucius drawls slowly. Setting his jaw, Draco turns slowly exposing more of his flayed back towards Lucius. Lucius gently strokes the raised white scars as Draco tries to suppress a shudder. Slowly Lucius leans in, his breath caresses Draco's ear. 'This is your fault you know. Such a disappointment. You are not strong enough and you never will be, you bring disgrace on the family name. You do not deserve to live.' _

_These words cut Draco like a knife, though his face betrays nothing. He will not give his father the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. A muttered spell causes Draco to flinch, indicating it is an incantation he knows well. A sharp whistling is the only warning Draco gets as the transfigured cane lashes down on his skin, creating a line of fire. _

_Draco bites back a cry and struggles to keep his face impassive and the blows rain down harder and faster. His entire world is pain. Fire. Agony. He feels his own blood dribble down his back and splatter onto the floor. Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the pain, a tear escapes and meanders slowly down his cheek. _

_Suddenly the blows stop and Draco almost cries out in relief. _

'_What's this?' Lucius taunts, 'Can't handle a few blows from a whip?' His voice suddenly turns harsh and cutting. 'Pathetic. Come on then, if you're so weak: scream for me.' _

_He smashes the whip across the pale stone face knocking his son to the floor. Draco clenches his jaw and struggles not to make a sound, not even trying to shield his body as his father slashes the whip wherever he can reach it. 'Come on, scream' Lucius sees pain explode in his son's eyes but his faces remains impassive and unemotional as ever. Growling Lucius throws the whip aside, noting his sons well disguised look if horror as he draws his wand._

'_I__know__how__to__make__you__scream._Crucio_.__'_

_And suddenly Draco explodes; pain is all there is, all there will ever be. Hot, cutting. Cold, slicing. It tears his muscles and races to encircle his head in a cocoon of agony. His body twists and contorts in grotesque shapes only a sick bastard would think up. He desperately tries to keep back the screams that are building up, biting his lip till blood flows. Lucius increases the power and Draco manages for, perhaps, 30 seconds until the first scream escapes. It is not a scream though, it is a blood-curdling shriek of agony no person or animal should endure._

_Lucius smirks at he thrashing son. 'Told you you would scream.' He whispers, to oquietly for Draco to hear. _

_Finally the screams subside and are replaced by choked sobs, but then Lucius hear a sound that chills his already cold blood. _

'_Please…please…ju…just stop…I'll do…any-anything.'_

_He lets off the curse. 'What was that?' He snarls. Draco, to busy coughing up blood, doesn't reply. _

'_Begging. My son, pure-blooded descendant of many great wizards…pleading. You disgust me. Now get up you pathetic excuse for a wizard.'_

_Draco wills his exhausted, screaming limbs to move but he is weighed down by a crushing darkness. He whimpers._

_Lucius__drags__his__son__to__his__feet__by__his__bloodstained__hair.__ '__Malfoys_never _beg.__' __He__hisses,__punctuating__each__word__with__a__blow__to__the__face__before__throwing__his__son__to__the__floor,__disgusted.__Exiting__the__room__smoothly__he__spares__not__even__a__backward__glance__to__his__heir__lying__on__the__floor__in__a__pool__of__his__own__blood._

_Draco if left lying on the floor, silent tears streaming down his face now that he is alone. Narcissa walks in once, shooting a tight-lipped glance at her broken son before wrinkling her nose and walking away. Like her dear husband not sparing a backward glance to her only son lying on a pool of his own blood._

_Draco drifts in and out of consciousness, praying desperately for the pain to go away. A broken whisper._

'_Save me.'_

N/A:Thanks for reading please review! Don't know why some words at the end have no spaces between them; I have tried to sort it out but it wont. I hope its legible anyway.

Rori xx


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A shocked silence fills the full classroom. A very pregnant pause. Everyone is wearing looks of varying degrees of disgust, the boys shocked, the girls upset. Everyone except Hermione, she looks not shocked or upset. She looks angry. No she was more than that, she was murderously enraged. Who would do that to their own son…it was Ron who shattered the silence.

'I think we know why he was such a prick now.' Nodding towards Draco, lying unconscious on the floor a distressed look on his face. At this Pansy bursts into noisy sobs.

'I knew it.'

'What?' screeched Hermione, 'You knew what was going on and you didn't tell anyone?'

'No!' Pansy cried hysterically, 'I just suspected, I tried to bring it up a few times but he just denied it and changed the subject. There were signs though, just little things…' she trailed off uncertainly.

Blaise took over 'He would flinch whenever you touched him, or when someone shouted too loudly. He's always the first one to rise in the morning and the last to go to bed. Needs the time for concealing charms, I suppose.' He muttered darkly.

Everyone sat in horrified silence for a few moments.

'You are going to tell Dumbledore, aren't you?' Harry questioned uncertainly.

Moody looked up, startled. 'why, er…of course, of course.'

'Don't tell anyone else though.' Pansy cut in. 'That goes for you too' She nodded at the rest of the class, glaring slightly at the Gryffindor side as if daring them to challenge her. 'He wouldn't like it…'

'Since when do we care what Malfoy likes?' Muttered Ron quietly, before being slapped sharply in the back of the head by Hermione. 'What? I was only joking'

'Oh you…' Hermione was cut of from her rant by a shuddering gasp.

(A/N: I am going to switch story into past tense because I find it so much easier to write in, I was just trying out present tense but I don't think it works for me. I will go back and change the other chapters when I have time. Sorry! Right now back to the story!)

All eyes flicked over to the slumped form of their former enemy/leader. They watched as he slowly drew himself into a kneeling position and flipped his perfect blond hair out of his eyes. Locking eyes with the rest of them, the class had only a split second to take in the pain and despair etched in his face before he pulled down his stone mask, hiding his emotions so perfectly. It broke Hermione's heart. She could tell from the looks on the others faces that it broke theirs too.

'Draco-' Pansy started, her voice low and quiet.

'Don't say anything' Draco growled and snapped his head up, galring at them all in the eye. 'Nothing at all'

Draco rose quickly and strode out the room.

A/N: Sorry this is so short but I had to stop here. Sorry for the wait and I will try and update soon but now I have really no idea where this is going, any suggestions?

Rori xx


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I had completely lost motivation, and school work got in the way, Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently now, but I'm making no promises! A thanks goes to Mellie for the idea for this chapter

As Draco ran, his head was a swirling torrent of half jumbled thoughts that shot around bombarded into each other and then popped out if existence, till he was left with only one word thudding round his brain. 'No'

No. No. No. NO! This couldn't be happening, they couldn't all know about…that. His father would really kill him this time; Merlin knows how many times he had been threatened of anyone found out.

He rounded the corned and burst into the first unoccupied room he saw. The girl's bathroom on the second floor. Clutching the sinks for support, sobs racked his already shivering body. He looked up into the mirror and the eyes of a haunted child looked back. He didn't know what to do; he felt like a child looking for something soft to clutch, that wouldn't hurt him, but only surrounded by sharp, poking blocks of iron and ice.

Just shrug it off. That's what he would do. Turn up the 'Slytherin Ice Prince' façade and say it was nothing. That it was only that one time, and pray to all that is holy that they would leave him alone and forget the scars that told a different story. Scars that told of years and years or hard abuse…he could feel another flashback coming on and viciously shook his head. No, not know.

He furiously scrubbed at the tears dribbling down his cheeks and gazed hard at his usually pale face that was now sporting bright-red marks around his puffed-up eyes. After taking two deep breathes he turned away from he mirror and pulled back down his stone guise. They couldn't find out any more.

Then why was it so hard? He felt his resolve waver and crash and the eyes of his father burned though his eyelids. What was the point anyway? They all knew hoe weak and pathetic he was now? All the time he spent covering it up, only for it to be destroyed in a matter of seconds.

Draco felt his chest tighten and breath stop in his throat. Becoming increasingly panicked, he wheezed and choked as tears streamed down his face; not another one, please not another one. Draco gave a shuddering gasp as he desperately tried to shove the panic attack he could fell coming on away. He vision darkened and blurred, just as a familiar figure came into view. And one that was just as unwanted.

Hermione followed the sounds of sobbing into the girl's bathroom, and pushing the door open, she slowly stepped in. Facing away from her on the opposite side of the bathroom, was the stupid pointy face she had grown to hate, screwed up with angry tears.

'Malf- er…Draco?' She called, uncertainly.

Draco gave a last quivering huff before seemingly snapping out of whatever world he had gone into.

'What do you want, Granger?' He snarled.

Hermione was quite surprised by the amount of venom in his tone.

'Er…Just to see if you were ok?'

'Fine. Well, I'm just fucking dandy. Happy?'

A cool hand was placed on his shoulder and Draco met her chocolate gaze with a gasp, having not seen her approach.

'Get the fuck off me.' He snapped, shaking his arm viciously and looking at the offending item with distaste. Hermione's eyes filled with tears as he scooted away from her. Unsure of what to do with her extended arm, she folded it across herself in a protective gesture.

'I just-'

'Just what, Granger. Just because you find out I get slapped around a bit, you suddenly don't hate me? You feel sorry for me. Is that it?'

'No, it's just-' Now it was Hermione's turn to back away as Draco got his feet and slowly walked towards her, his footsteps silent on the tiled ground.

'We hate each other Granger. Don't let your little pity-arty for me change that. I'm still the same heartless Slytherin.'

Draco shoved her, and her back his the wall abruptly. Noses inches apart, a small tear meandered down Hermione's cheek as she looked in to the eyes of stormy oblivion.

There they stayed for a good few minutes – the tall blond towering over the head of bushy hair with a murderous glare, the Gryffindor too scared to move.

'Just leave me alone, Hermione.'

Draco turned and, once again, swept out of the darkened room.

Wait. Hermione?

Well, what do ya think? Again, I'm very sorry for the long wait and I do hope you have it in you to review!


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